The Coming of the Iron Hide

Today the Canis Aureus faced Ron and his Vostroyan Guard. The first game he drew no useful objectives and rolled pretty badly and the second did not fall to his favour either. The jackals held their territory and Cleaver the Choppa managed to fell a Russ in both games.

The Coming of the Iron Hide

A spinning vortex of a sickly yellow haze clouded the sky at least two-hundred kilometres in diameter. It held its position unerringly above the battle front. It's power and force so great it had held the Aureus forces on the T'au planet and subjected them to a foul barrage of their own creation. The jackal's forces were held on the ground, a large percentage had taken casualties from the plague storms. Those that had not been swept away or mired, began to pull back to their lines, making the headway they could in the dreadful conditions. many units, most of them astartes and light infantry, were cut off by the plague hordes generated by the widespread miasma of the Plague Lord.

No one, not even Cutter the Choppa could make progress through the maelstrom. While the rest of the Aureus forces were claiming land in the name of the Wolf Mother, the forces of fury and blood were stuck and unable to further the cause. It wasn't until they saw the first of the Vostroyan regiments appeared passing through the thick storm clouds, that the demented Chaos Lord was happy he had been trapped.  

Filled with titanic fury, almost pure and undiluted with thought or other emotions, he mounted his nearby rhino and became locked in combat. After chopping down two of his own renegades in blind rage he punctured the Leman Russ's hide as it came through the dense miasma.  Fuel tanks exploding it threw off the renegades, tearing the pack of Jackals to shreds. Witnessing the Vostroyan's fall back he gritted his teeth and bellowed insults into the wind, before calling on more renegades to enter the fray.

* * * * *

With bitter resentment, Quadir pulled the Endless Cacophany back from the edges of the ruin and into the nearby rhino.  he could tell from this position they would be outgunned on the Vostoyan's return. A quick vox exchange led them to the East flank where they deployed as their transport was hit by the advancing Vostroyan gun line.  

Fell picked up on the faint sound of the Commissar's shouting amongst the bombardment. Honing in on it he directed the rest of his squad to open fire. The howls that erupted tore through the structure and through the mortals behind it. Flesh was parted from bone and their screams suppressed by the audial bombardment. As the Commissar advanced to the edge of the building the Cacophony hit him with a vicious blast as two of the astartes fell to the Vostran's deadly aim. Steadying himself on his feet the Commissar fount his footing as Quadir impacted with the officer, tearing his head from his shoulders with one solid punch.

Explosions crackled through the plague infested ruins in the direction of the plaguebearers advance. The Noise Jackal watched in disgust as they shambled into the scout walkers, preventing them from being a threat.  Just behind the fray he could also make out the form of Cleaver holding a leg into the air and whooping with glee as the Vostroyan's retreated. They had held the territory against the forces of the Imperium, but to what end? There was no merit in them holing this fetid landscape, all was dead, all was lost, their job had been done. 

Quadir longed to be under the command of Salazar once more instead of the brutish oaf that was Cleaver.  Turning the amp up on his weapon he faced the advancing, mindless plague horde. 

"Where the hell are the Deathguard? Isn't it their job to control this mindless scum?" He yelled blasting the flesh from the amassing assailants before him.

A Mighty Victory

A few weekends ago Jamie, Mia and Me went to the Dice Saloon in Brighton. It is one of our favourite venues despite being quite a trek away from where we all live. While we were there we played one large game, followed by a smaller game. It was the first time seeing a Tiger Shark on the field and the potential of that beast is certainly scary.

Once the games were done we relaxed with some food, drinks and a handful of board games. Below is the fluff from the games.

With trepidation the greater daemon had launched his assault on the heart of the Pax’nera’s home world. The avian ancient knew that this was the path he must take despite the inevitable defeat. Not one but two of the tiger sharks were above them. The first fell to the blast of the macro-ectoplasmic cannon and then the second, but not before the Mother’s Cannon had been crippled. Leaking phosphorus neon liquid it sizzled and spat, until it internally ruptured and split under the fire of the enemy. The twisted beast had taken many months to build and it’s loss would not be taken lightly among the renegade Astartes. På Veg craned around to see the loathing emitting from Vlees. His sockets brimming with internal fluids as he swung his axe in the air, gesticulating for his deredeos to take down the opposing forces. The twin-headed daemon Lord hoped this grinding stalemate would be enough to draw the t’au’s attention from the Charadon sector. He could not foretell their fate, but he knew in time the forces here would be defeated and only Vlees and the horrors under his command would escape.

* * *

Crashing into the landscape below, Cleaver the Choppa was full of confidence. Despite the overwhelming odds that he knew that his forces were about to face, he showed no hesitation. Beneath his helmet his face was twisted with glee. The Lord knew at this very moment a heavy bombardment and assault was taking place on the Pax’nera’s home world. A force not large enough to take the planet but strong enough to be a distraction. No hero’s faced them today. Only a force of nameless officers and a solitary commander greeted them. He recognised the landing craft of the Bay’be Sept’s Ethereal. She had pursued them at a distance and had clearly warned of the incoming threat. Cleaver cared not. He welcomed the challenge. Diving out of his rhino as it caught fire, the crazed Lord cleaved his way into the transport craft before him. Rushing forward his entourage shot and hacked into the breacher team. As the blue bodies fell, the Pax’nera firing line took aim. The six berserkers and their champion all fell to the gunfire and the explosion of the nearby transport tore their corpses apart. Cleaver in his fury had failed to spot the concealed payload of explosives. As his axe impacted into its core, armour, flesh and bone were torn from his frame. Out of the machine span a whirlpool of flame and fire that tore at everything around it. T’au and heretic burnt alike in the supernova that was born from the wreck. Rising from the ash, parts of his skull and rib cage exposed, Choppa pressed on. The defiler given to him by the Deathguard, ate, burnt and shot its way through the main body of the t’au, while the bloat drone tore across the landscape, burning everything in it’s wake. Hooking up to the central air filtration system the drone emptied its fetid fluids and life force into the air filters and pump system. Plaguebearers shambled and threw themselves off of the railings and into the water tanks below. Alarms sounded. Within days this section of the planet would be covered in plague and disease. He hoped it would be enough to claim at least a quarter of the planets population. Perhaps then the Plague Lord would release the arch-daemon from his eternal prison, so that the Aureus could get the answers that they needed. Drinking from the soiled water, Cleaver felt the disease and corruption eat into his injuries. Rage and knowledge were his, he hoped this would bring him the protection that the Plague Father has promised him. Protection that had allowed his rival Gurth to survive such crippling defeats.

Lord of Khorne: Cutter the Choppa'

After my victory with a proxy Chaos Lord (As I forgot my actual Lord) I decided to make a Lord of Khorne.

I took a primaris body and two ork arms as well as a few chaos bits and made Cutter the Choppa into an actual model. Suitably huge when compared to a standard old marine.

But what is a Khorne Lord without skulls? I hear you say. Well I thought similar, so I decided to give him twenty skulls on his person and seven on his base. The base is a 40mm base which is too big but I think he justifies it.

The same day I painted him and then he was ready for battle.

Last week the might of Cutter the Choppa, clashed with Jamie's Pax'nera T'au Sept.  It was a brutal and brief game. I claimed first turn. Charged from the rhino and ate into the t'au gun line. The retaliation was bloody but it didn't stop my Lord cleaving through the blue-skinned bodies until he claimed victory.

A Servant's Wrath

Removing his helmet their Lord revealed his scarred and pitted visage. Twisted leathery flesh, fused with bone and metal. Like his other warriors, he bore the fresh wounds of self mutilation. Blood poured from his large gnarled hands and wrists into the numerous orifices in his face. His dark eyes stared with glee out into the battlefield before them. Beyond the haze of gore he could see the Pax’nera landing in the ruins opposite starting their advance. Cutter the Choppa clambered into his rhino and called his berserkers forward. Klash began to shiver and chatter as Mauler howled with anticipation. All at once they began the berserkgang. First waves of cold hit them, their joints seizing as they uncontrollably shivered. Moans and roars erupted as their flesh bulged in deep reds and purples. Fever soon bled into rage, chainswords revved into action as the rhino’s hatch was released. Crashing into the t’au battle line the renegade berserkers took the first volley of fire. Bodies riddled with mortal injury they continued to fight on. Amongst his dying warriors Cleaver entered the fray. His huge axe in hand he cut three t’au in half with one blow narrowly missing a fourth. He cared not for his brothers. As six fell down dead the remaining two turned to run. In one swift motion the Chaos Lord cleaved down his own as they attempted to flee, the mighty choppa severing armour, flesh and bone. He was not surprised their fate had been foretold. A precognition had been implanted into his head by På Veg prior to their landing. The mighty greater daemons eyes penetrating his corrupted soul and had foretold his success. Med Leen’s visions had been more grave. They had prophesied his warriors foul fate and the blind rage as he cleaved them down. He knew he would turn from this battle, let the enemy flee, wipe out the tiny horrors in anger at their masters predictions. Recalling the malevolent jeering made his rage boil over. Turning from the enemy he directed his rage towards the warp spawn. Cleaver the Choppa was no ones puppet!

The horror propelled itself onward sullen, chortling and whining. Tears of rage filled its diminutive contorted face. Surrounding him were the six remaining little daemons, laughing and cackling as they simmered and popped. They all knew that they would soon return to their master. Two of the horrors would flee, hide and burn up to nothing, while their blue leader and four other critters would be decimated by the mighty ork weapon. Clambering around the last remaining drones they managed to secure themselves on one and pull it to the ground. Weeping and stamping in a volatile rage, the radiant blue leader slammed his ever-changing form into the dirty below. Unable to focus on their victory he was sealed by the misery of his fate. Turning around he saw the large bulky figure approaching them. “Tell your Lord to get outa my ‘ed!” Yelled Cleaver as he brought down the Choppa, dissipating the horrors into nothing but fire and crackling energy. The Pax’nera had fallen back, the great ones claimed what they wanted and now more of the planet was theirs. Before he had a chance to rejoice, the crackling static and flames seized the Chaos Lord. Sparking and convulsing, his muscles expanded and were filled with a new vigour, a new vigour that would allow him to claim and defend the eldar moon.

Clash for the Spirit Stones

The second game of the campaign week was against David's Eldar. The game consisted of two brutal turns of ranged combat and assault, systematically wiping out all three of his main squads. The combination of the noise marines and the plaguebearers close assault made it a swift and harsh defeat. Below is a piece of fiction representing what happened in the second game of the campaign.

Clash for the Spirit Stones

"Ramps ready to drop on your mark,"

"As soon as we are clear we need to join the Acolytes of the Wolf on Ground," Salazar said. He looked back at the writhing, fetid plaguebearers in the back of the hold, soiling his ships surface with layers of rot and filth. 

"I will see you once the battle is done," Quadir, Leader of the Endless Cacophony spoke, his crackling, wavering tones emitting from his vox amplifier.

"With claw and blade," Fell, added. "Her hunt has begun."

As they focused on the task at hand, the agents of the Endless Cacophony  began their hymns. Fell checked over his armour while the five marines opposite sang their death ballad in chorus, making sure his suit was sealed before striking the disembarkation rune with his fist.  It flashed from red to green, there was a thump of mag-locks and a hiss of decompressed air. Releasing the catch on the plaguebearers' containment cell, Salazar charged down the ramp as it fell forward. 

Stanford had been waiting for them. His eyes now adjusted to the truth, flaring with fire and ancient forbidden knowledge.  The xenos were just over the ridge, their spirit stones waiting to be claimed for the wolf mother. Failing to avoid the stream of projectiles that kicked up the stone of the crater around them, Standford and his unit were torn to shreds. Razor-sharp discs cut through bone and flesh with ease. Pulling a cocktail stimulants from backpack, the blood-soaked militia leader punched them into his chest, as he watched his leg roll slowly down the crater's edge.

Slinger's projectiles tore through the advancing plaguebearers like overripe fruit. Milky, yellowed pus burst forth as the shambling, slime-slick daemons marched onward towards their prey. Before the xenos warriors could pull back the plague carriers were on them, tearing through armour and gnawing at the flesh beneath.

Quadir had witnessed similar sights many times, but this was the first time he had fought with the forces of the Plague Lord on his side. With a mixture of disgust and pleasure, he watched the carnage unfold. Despite his senses being dulled to normal combat, the exchange still thrilled him. Most of the Jackals revelled in the sensation of axe and fist splitting flesh and breaking bone, but the agent required far greater chaos in battle.  Their hymn over, the Lord of the Endless Cacophony, turned up his amplifier and released the Howls of the Mother from their psycho-sonic weaponry. Impacting into two of the three squads of guardians. Eldar burst and split as flesh and armour was stripped from bone. Those that survived the blast clawed at their minds as the horrors of the warp filled their vision, before being torn down by bolter rounds from Fell's advancing squad. 

Not only had they secured the corpses they were after, but Quadir had found the drop of xenos supplies and weaponry. Releasing two more waves of sound into the retreating eldar forces, the Cacophony twitched in pleasure while flesh was flayed and their weapons exploded in arcs of flame.  

Salazar was greatly pleased with his warriors. Collecting the spirit stones off of the dead he wondered of the Wolf Mother's intentions. The thought came as quickly as it went. Any moment spent too long dwelling on the Huntress, gave him thick nosebleeds and nausea. He was a soldier not a thinker after all.  Signalling for his crew to finish up, the Champion made his way back to the drop ship.

Kick Off: Clash with the Mechanicus

Today I played two 500pt games with Ed to Kick off the Battle for the Charadon Sector: Builder Campaign.  He used a small but highly effective force. My outreach team could not deal with the might of his kastelan robots along with his Tech Priest. The 2+ saves and healing was too much to deal with. The first game was close but the second was a crushing defeat. Turn one of the entire campaign and my forces are at the mercy of the Machine God.

Clash with the Mechanicus

His head was still filled with visions of the twisted greater daemon. The two conflicted heads gnawed at his mind and he lacked confidence in his forces. Gurth had heard that his renegades had fought valiantly, but had fallen to the invading forces of the Mechanicus. Leading the counter attack, the shaken Chaos Lord launched his counter assault. 

Within twelve seconds both his force of plague bearers and the Endless Cacophony veterans, had been torn down by a horrendous volley of firepower.  Left in the open Gurth jumped onto the rooftop and attempted to penetrate the giant shells of the kastelan monstrosities before him.  Hate and fear filled his body as he clenched down upon the trigger of his combi-melta, the blast deflected off of its gleaming bodywork, narrowly missing the Lord's own head. Enraged and horrified by the Chaos lords affront, the Tech Priest took aim and fired. Gurth had been erased from existence. 

Across the battlefield a small squad of five renegades swiftly moved into the northern ruin, destroying the evidence of the Wolf Mother's Shrine location. Paperwork and runes were charred and scattered by their frag grenades. Rangers flew from the room covering their retreat, their firepower punched through the marines' armour and tore through their vital organs. 

Stanford witnessed their demise.

"Look Gurth's made his sacrifice, he was spooked and useless. Pull back we need to survive this shit storm. Those metal freaks are too strong. No need to throw our lives away for this lads," spoke the young square jawed militia captain. 

"But sir what about the volkite weaponry?"

"Leave it. Those metal bastards can have it. At least the Astartes scum managed to destroy the evidence of the shrine before re-arming our enemy."

"But sir the Wolf Mother requires blood!"

Eustas Standford cursed. He looked at Farrow, the grunt's eyes were filled with the light of their goddess. Her daemonic visage flickered deep within his sockets. It was clear The Huntress wanted blood, before they left he knew that they had to kill something.  With eager eyes he took to the corner of the large ruin and saw his target. In amongst chaos of the enemy's close assault on their rhino, he could see the solitary ranger.  One man to their five guns.  

"Alright boys!  The Wolf Mother is watching. Kill the skinny bastard and then we can get out of here. There's no point in us being here any longer."

As the tech Priest drove his axe into the rhino with one final swing, he pulled the writhing chaos marine out from within.  Calling an end to the battle the Priest pulled the trigger erasing the Astartes from the material world. Unperturbed Standford charged forward, his remaining militia emptying all of their rounds into the ranger before disappearing into the ruins unseen.

They had lost the sector, but as they ran they could feel their eyes burning and radiating with holy light.  She had blessed them. The Wolf Mother had allowed them to see. Bathing in the Mother's light they knew what they had to do and how the next task had to be carried out.  

Fiction: Eskade - Shrine World of the Wolf Mother

As he scratched at the festering wound in his side, Gurth convulsed before he wretched and delivered another serving of maggots to the rats beneath him.  The Wolf Mother had told him to come here. In doing so he had deserted the rest of his Chapter and travelled to the Charadon Sector along with his war band of Jackals. Months had been spent doing nothing while the rest of the Aureus squabbled and fought across the stars.  The Ancient had heard the tales of valour at Konor and the treachery of the new Primaris created to fight for them. He longed to be back in conflict, to show his chapter the might of Grandfather Nurgle.

“You’re disgusting and small,” rumbled a voice from above the Lord, the waft of breath scented with iron, smoke and charred flesh.

As the Jackal turned to greet his opponent he raised his volkite blaster with unnatural speed, his decaying limb flaking with the rapid motion. High above him towered a greater daemon of Khorne. Bewildered and lost for words Gurth pulled the trigger of his highly sought after firearm. The blasts tore through the beast's thick red skin but failed to penetrate the dense flexed muscle tissue below.

“Why does the Huntress choose such a weak and pathetic leaker to do her bidding? I am not your errand boy tiny man.”

“Ssstop… sssstop it with the insssultsss beassst unlesss you mean to fight me. My new massster has given me a force that will flourisssh in the eternity that is death. My legion of the undying is more than you can handle great one,” Gurth challenged, barely moving his infested facial features, as his clouded, singular cyclopean eye span wildly and without focus.

“I need to go and shed blood. I don’t have time for you or your so-called army. Here are your orders now do your work for the Huntress or I will be back to gut you,” spat the agitated Rögnvaldr’s, nostrils flaring as his temper increased.

With an almighty impact the rune stone hit the ground as the mighty daemon phased back out of reality. Masonry fell from the central shine chamber and the walls began to buckle. Having foreseen this moment many times over in his visions, Gurth grabbed the stone and ran towards the worn and submerged temple doors. Just like in his visions, he passed through the stonework as if it was water and clambered up the giant stone steps before him.

Inside of the temple there was a colossal statue magnificent and vast. A woman with the head of a wolf and the body of a human woman. One arm ended in a huge claw while the other hand held a vast daemonic blade.  The altar that stood before it, elegant and ornate, it’s centre filled with trinkets and scrolls of various sizes and colours. Each scroll simmered and distorted before his eyes. The surrounding walls were covered in scripture and perfect condition written in some ancient and forbidden language. Focusing on any part of the text made even the ancient astartes mind burn and his nose run thick with blood. Before he could investigate his surroundings any further a vast bird head with vibrant red plumage, came from around the corner.

“I have been expecting you Lord of the False Path, Unbeliever of the Truth. You have been chosen to protect this word, reap the reward of the Warp, free the Mother from her shackles and let the greatest hunt of the universe begin,” cackled the vast demented head.

Moving into the centre of the temple towards the altar, Gurth could see the vast bipedal form of the greater daemon before him. He knew he had been blessed or doomed to have been in the presence of two greater daemons within the hour. He began to approach before reeling back in horror as not one but two heads emerged, craning round to look at the astartes from behind.

“Fear is good and fear feeds the Mother of Wolves, bring fear to the system and protect her shrine world. You have been chosen to lead the armies of both humanity and Chaos in the name of the true Goddess of the Warp,” spoke the crimson plumed head, it’s eyes wide and unfocused.

“You have been chosen to die as a distraction for the ritual that is about to take place. Send your pathetic forces of the Grandaddy to death worm and let us feed off of your souls. Prove your worth!” Spat the head with flecks of green plumage.

Gradually it turned to face the Chaos Lord, one hand grabbing a staff and the other a mighty blade that’s surface constantly changed and twisted.

“Kill him now and then we can make a start on the preparations!” Snapped the green plumed head at the red.

“No he needs to be kept alive to defend this planet as the ritual takes place!”

The daemon moved with a grace and speed that Gurth had come to expect from most of the capable and older daemons in the warp. As the sword arm lunged at him, the arm with the staff intercepted. Beaks tore into flesh and feathers. Sword and staff bludgeoned and cut in union. Not able to comprehend what was taking place before him, Gurth left the temple with haste. Inhaling large amounts of the stale atmosphere he collapsed to his knees convulsing and contorting. His mind on fire he knew he had to protect this planet. For better or worse he was going to be part of something great. He had to contact the Deathguard, he needed their power, their protection and most of all their Primarch.

Battle for the Charadon Sector - Halloween Stratagems and Twists

The Canis Aureus along with nine other forces are fighting in my first ever long winded campaign. Run with narrative and cinematic moments in mind, ten players have assembled to try and conquer the system over a six month period. The idea is to keep the cheesy game play light and the missions story driven.

The map is a work in progress but all will be finalised by the end of the week.

Each month I will also be making fun Stratagems and Twist cards that are optional in battle. Below are the first months Halloween themed stratagems and twists.

Stratagems

Twists